


Diaphanous

by bloodscout



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Sabriel Week, Souls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-03
Updated: 2012-04-03
Packaged: 2017-11-03 00:25:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/375014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodscout/pseuds/bloodscout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>April 1st<br/>•	diaphanous  ||  [adjective]  ||  light, delicate, translucent</p>
            </blockquote>





	Diaphanous

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of my Word-A-Day Challenge ficlets for Sabriel Week on Tumblr.

Sam has no idea what a human soul looks like. Part of him thinks they must be like Grace, too powerful to comprehend, but undoubtedly very beautiful. He knew people who could have had souls like that. People like his mother and people like Jess.

There’s another part of him that isn’t so sure. There’s a part of him, tainted with blood and revenge and grief and his time in Hell, a part that thinks human souls would be hideous. That part of him thinks of putrid, foul distortions of sin and hatred carelessly shoved into imperfect carcasses of meat and bone. Sam has nightmares about souls like that, because he can imagine people having souls like. People like him.

Whenever Sam has a nightmare, he curls in on himself, taking up the smallest amount of space possible. When he was a kid, Dean would rub his shoulders and his head until he unfurled and went back to sleep. Now, when Sam has a nightmare, Gabriel slips into his arms and whispers into his ear. Simple things, but powerful;

_It’s alright, Sammy. It’s okay._

I’m here for you. Nothing’s coming for you.

We’re safe, Sammy. You don’t have to worry about us.

I love you. You remember that when you’re in there. You remember that.

Sometimes Gabriel looks in on Sam’s nightmares. It’s kinda strange, like knowing someone is in the back seat of your car, but not being able to see them in the rearview mirror. It’s unsettling too, because Sam doesn’t want Gabriel to worry about him. He doesn’t want to burden anyone with his insecurities. He didn’t want to frighten Gabriel off. He thinks the archangel knows that, and he doesn’t know how to respond to it. He thinks Gabriel knows about the souls, too. He’s pretty sure.

Gabriel is usually plastered to Sam’s chest in the morning. His hands are usually clutching Sam’s hair or his forearm or loosely grasping his sleep shirt. It’s nice, the closeness. If he isn’t already, he’s awake the second Sam is and isn’t afraid to whip up some pancakes with a side of mischief. But this time, Gabriel isn’t anywhere in sight. Sam just takes it as a blessing, because any morning without Gabriel’s elaborate hijinks is a good morning, right? He closes his eyes until the comfortable just-awake feeling clears from his head, then gets out of his empty bed in his empty hotel room.

He goes to see Dean. No Gabriel.

They have a diner breakfast. No Gabriel.

They follow up some leads at the police station. Still no Gabriel.

Sam gets back to his hotel room, a little disheartened. He was used to seeing the archangel regularly throughout the day and, to be honest, he misses him a little, misses his candy bars and his smirk and his wiles. Sam crawls under the covers, alone, and drifts off to sleep.

When he wakes, the room smells like incense. The air is thick and cloying and it’s a thoroughly odd way to wake up.

‘Morning, Sleeping Beauty.’ Gabriel beams, sitting cross-legged next to a bowl, a bunch of herbs and some choice sigils painted on the floor. ‘Come have a look.’ He insists, pointing to the bowl.

Sam rubs his eyes, frowns, and plods over to Gabriel.

‘Have a look.’ He says again, and Sam looks at where the shorter man is pointing.

The bowl is filled with water, but the water is… shimmering. Shifting, like oil slick. It makes Sam’s head spin a little, until out of the corner of his eye he sees Gabriel frown down at the liquid. Sparks start to appear, bursts of white light skimming across the surface of the bowl like miniature fireworks.

‘That’s… That’s really cool.’ Sam concedes, his sleep addled brain not yet alert enough to provide a larger vocabulary.

Gabriel hums in agreement and smiles a little. 

Suddenly the liquid stops looking like oil slick and starts to glow. It changes colours, shifting through the light spectrum and into hues Sam doesn’t have a name for. It’s still sparkling but the fireworks are getting bigger, moving. The liquid physically moves, forming itself into a thin sheet of light and sparks as it rises out of the bowl. It hangs between them like a gossamer curtain and Sam’s fingers itch to touch it, to see if it’s as soft and satiny as it looks.

‘Go on.’ Gabriel prompts, obviously sensing what Sam wants.

Tentatively, Sam stretched out his fingers and lightly brushes the sheet. It feels like satin and soft wool and the warmth of the sun all at once, and not just at the point of contact, but all the way up his arm and through half of his chest. Sam’s jaw drops open as he presses his whole palm against the sheet of light, the sparks sending shivers through his body and the warm feeling moving to envelope his whole body.

‘Do you know what that is?’ Gabriel asks excitedly.

Sam shrugs.

Gabriel’s lip twitch, like he’s trying to be serious. ‘That’s what I see when I look at your soul.’ He says simply.

The sheet – Sam’s _soul_ \- drops back into the bowl and begins to spark madly as Sam launches himself at Gabriel. He captures his lips in a feverish kiss, trying to share all the warmth and the softness that he had felt through their lips. So many things he isn’t saying, so much love.

_you’re perfect fantastic too good for me never leave please never leave me promise you’ll stay forever_

When they break apart, Gabriel grins.

‘Is that a thank you?’

Sam grins right back. ‘I think it is.’

This time, the sparks from the bowl are audible.


End file.
